Saladar El-Huor-Ahwee is a swine. I disliked him the moment I laid eyes on him. He was an arrogant, imperious, self-anointed potentate that everyone seemed in awe of. His emotionless eyes, beak nose, tight cruel mouth, framed by the thick straggly moustache, and his full head of straggly hair, almost turned my stomach. He spoke English rather well, having been schooled in the west. And being stepbrother to Saddam Hussein, Saladar El-Hour-Ahwee’s political and military might in the Middle East, in 2003, were indisputable.

Everyone in the desert camp appeared to idolize the presumptuous pig. He was their ruler, in every aspect. He did all their thinking, and made all their decisions. His followers were groveling, petrified sheep, and he, the mighty Golden Ram. As the armed guards led through the camp, I noticed there were no women. There were about two hundred militant savages from about sixteen-years-of-age to about thirty-five. And then there were about thirty members of the elite Republican Guard who served and protected Saladar. All the lesser men were crammed up together in crowded tents.

“Sit down,” said Saladar, gesturing to me when his guards had herded me into his tent. He sat there in the huge festive tent surrounded by extravagant wealth. Fine oriental rugs graced the floor, while veiled, ornately garbed women stood awaiting his every command; the first women I had seen in the camp.

“My men have brought you a great distance. You must be tired,” he said, offering a mock smile. I wondered at his discomforting graciousness. But, yes, I was tired. We had traveled for at least thirteen hours in that cramped vehicle. I wasn’t even sure that I was still in Iraq. Most of the trip I had been blindfolded and given very little food. And now I was here. Taken prisoner only minutes after my Black Hawk helicopter had hit wind turbulence over the desert and crashed, a few days ago. I'm not sure if that band of rag-tag militant savages, that quickly surrounded me, were Taliban or Iraqi rebels. But most cried, “Death to the Infidel!” But an intervening soldier, a member of the Republican guard, named Lieutenant Ultor Ahwee and his three military attaches negotiated diligently for my life. I was then blindfolded, thrown into the back of that ancient military vehicle, and now stand before this vile, Middle-Eastern Mussolini.

After a battery of questions, I stated that since I was a prisoner of war, only my name, rank, and serial- number were required information.

“But you are my personal prisoner, Captain Dexter Warrington,” he growled, fiercely glaring at me. “You will tell me what I need to know, or I can slit your insubordinate, oil-hungry throat merely for my men’s enthusiastic amusement, and without any international consequences!”

“That Sir would be a breech of the Geneva Agreement,” I rapidly replied. “I am a member of the armed forces of the United States of America. My death would guarantee yours!”

I heard my pontificating echoing in my ears. But within seconds of my grandstanding, I saw Saladar’s move and instantly felt a fierce blow to my neck from a guard and experienced myself dropping to the floor.

“What makes you think that anyone will ever see your filthy carcass again?” shouted a stone-eyed Saladar. “Your American superiority and arrogance mean nothing to me. Here you will be the subservient!” Beckoning to Lieutenant Ultor and his attaches, Saladar pointed at me, shouting, “Remove this filthy vermin from my presence!”

Lieutenant Ultor and his three military underlings all scrambled with me, bringing me up to my feet. I felt belittled, dismissed, demeaned. For some reason, I felt a need to strike out, to hit and to hurt. I elbowed one of the attaches in the Adam’s apple, kicked one in the groin, and placed a mean right cross to the jaw of the third. But Lieutenant Ultor came up behind me. He placed his left arm around my neck, and twisted my right arm behind me, and shouted, “Cease!” Not being able to move or breathe, I had no choice but to cease.

Standing up, Saladar stepped up in front of me. “So this foolish Dog of Bush would hasten his death, eh?” His burning, cold black eyes glared into mine. I saw and felt a thousand years of Mohammedan ferocity in that stare. His classic Middle Eastern features etched in my brain something far beyond that which was currently visible. Something far back in my primal sub-consciousness began to sob. And yet my conscious brain was celebratory, quietly thrilled, and potently awed.

The three soldiers, who I had somehow obtained supernatural strength to clock-out, got to their feet and aided Ultor in restraining me. The great torrent of electric energy emitting from those five Iraqi men was almost audible. The large tent seemed to crackle and tremble in some unseen, exhilarating maelstrom. When Saladar brought his large hand to my face and grabbed it fiercely, the women all painfully gasped, then humbly bowed backward out of the tent. Looks of unimaginable horror possessed their eyes.

Holding my face in that viselike grip, through clenched teeth, the Islamic leader growled, “Courage to the end, eh, Dog of Bush. Well, we will see what bravery truly lurks in that dog’s heart of yours before this is over!”

Cruelly shoving my face to one side, he turned and walked away, shouting, “Remove this American dog and prepare him for his trip into Paradise!” The removal of those burning, calculating eyes left me wanting more. Even though I was petrified. There was somehow great life in that menacing stare.

Saladar’s announcement gave the atmosphere in that brightly colored tent even more heightened electricity. I suddenly felt Ultor’s erect penis pressing hard on my ass through my camouflage pants, as he tightly restrained me. It was then I realized that the basis of the energy in the room was unbridled masculine sexuality. I felt and smelled the pungent musky aroma of the heightened masculine arousal of Iraqi cock. Suddenly I became aware that I too was intensely aroused. Swiftly, anger consumed me. I was disappointed in myself. All those neurotic feelings of adolescence were gripping me fiercely. Yet, for the first time since adolescence I couldn’t summon the mental resolve to quell or abolish those feelings. Thoughts of my wife and two children filled my mind. I tried desperately to keep them anchored there. But the dizzying, emotional predisposition to male sex, and my commanding erection, would not be vanquished. But as he disappeared deeper into the tent, Saladar turned and commanded his nephew Ultor to accompany him, and to have his three attaches return me to my confinement.

Hands tied behind my back, the three republican solders marched me back through the camp toward a tent that appeared to be in the middle of the compound. En route, many of the soldiers, some who had changed into civilian garb, all laughed and chuckled, mocking me with lousy English, as I passed. They all seemed aware of some joke about me that I hadn’t been let in on. I’m sure being an American and one of Bush’s Dogs couldn’t have been that funny.

Reaching the rather large tent, the lead guard ordered one of the soldiers to untie me, as I was shoved inside the dwelling. It was pretty big and rather impressive for a POW cell. A rug covered the ground and many colorful cushions and ottomans placed here and there. There was a huge trunk and what appeared to be a sleeping mattress. The guard commanded me to get undressed. Shocked, I looked at him with surprise. He repeated the command, saying, “You are to be prepared for your journey into paradise!”

Assuming I was going to be shot in the nude, I steeled my nerves, and obeyed. But there was an energy emanating from the handsome Iraqi officer that didn’t suggest anything murderous.

Finally standing there naked in front of the three handsome, young Iraqi Republican Guards, I felt just a bit embarrassed about the slight erection I was revealing to these messengers of death. At military attention, I stood there awaiting their next move. The lead guard stoically strode over to the entrance of the tent and admitted three of the women who had been in Saladar’s tent. One carried a large container of water; the others carried towels, soap, and what appeared to be ointments. All three began to giggle when they saw my thick red slightly erect cock standing out from my thick honey-hued pubes. I looked at them with annoyance. One of the Guards grabbed me by my thick, corn silk blonde hair and forced me to bow to the most dominant of the three females.

“This is Hasshya’, he said, “you will obey her, else I will slit your throat!”

I nodded and Sasshya looked me over, from head to foot. She made a clucking noise with her tongue, laughing as she spun me around, examining me. The three soldiers departed thru the curtain of the tent. I was alone with these women. Hasshya led me over to the side of the tent where the large basin of water was.

“You must be clean, it will not do if you are filthy!” she exclaimed. Snaping her fingers, the two other women came to my side. “Wash him!" she commanded. “Scrub all the stink away. He must smell as sweet as the two of you do!” With that Sasshya, disappeared beyond the tent curtain.

I was shocked. This cruel ritual of preparing me for death was unnerving me. Deftly, the two women soaked towels in the basin and began washing me. It felt so good feeling all that sweetly scented warm water on my body. The bath was wonderful. The two women were experts in the art of bathing. They scrubbed me clean of the two-day layer of soil, sweat, sand and pollution of war. My skin was almost raw. But it felt so good; my skin was so glowing, so pink and alive. I couldn't stop looking at these women. They were very serious, going about their work of cleaning me up. They did not speak, even to each other. They wouldn’t look at me; they made no eye contact, at all. But I was thrilled nonetheless, to see these two Iraqi women who must have loathed me to the core of their being for being a part of the force that was making their country a pile of ruins. But they were two polite, normal women who, in neither word, action nor thought, were threatening. I felt calm. And clean. They covered my body with perfume when they finished washing. I felt good, so very good. But I still wondered what they had in mind for me.

Sasshya returned inside the tent when they finished. She led me over to a table where there was food and water. There was a tray piled high with falafel patties. I shoved them into my mouth one after the other, I was so hungry. Sasshya then brought me wine. I drank down glass after glass. I was drunk before I knew it. But I felt like I had died and gone to heaven, or in this case, Paradise. And even though I was in a country where American soldiers and Iraqi soldiers, and civilians alike, were being decimated everywhere, daily…I felt great. My belly was full and I was clean. Eventually, Sasshya led me to a cot in a corner of the tent. It was so soft and comfortable and I nodded off immediately. I must have slept for an entire day. Because when I awoke the sun was in the same place as it had been when I went to sleep. Sasshya was the only woman in the tent. She fed me once more, and gave me a washcloth to wash my face. She then shaved my three-day growth of beard.

“You feel good?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“Good!” she replied. “Then you are ready.”

She took me by the hand and led me outside. The two soldiers guarding the tent got up and followed us. I balked when I fully realized that I was naked. But the soldiers shoved me onward behind Sasshya. The many soldiers and bedraggled militants in the compound cheered, guffawed, whistled and laughed at the five foot eleven, one hundred and sixty-pound, blue-eyed, blond haired Black Hawk Helicopter Pilot who was as naked as the day he was born. Rising above the ridicule, I ran my fingers through my hair, and summoned my superior military mind to think how good the sun felt on my shoulders. But behind that bravura, I was certain I was being led to some location to be shot in the name of almighty Allah.

Suddenly, my heart sank a bit more when I realized we were returning to Saladar’s tent. I envisioned an even more horrid death appearing before me. Just inside the tent, Sasshya pulled out a leather strip and fastened it around my neck. It was a dog collar. Then she attached a leash, which appeared to be 4-feet, to that collar, and led me into Saladar. He lounged on pillows, eating grapes and some sort of bread-like concoction. Scornfully, he looked up at me. Sasshya handed him the leash, bowed, and stepped back.

“My son has seen you, Captain Dexter Warrington, and foolishly asks me to spare your life,” snidely exclaimed Saladar. “You see my son envisions you as a stellar example of Western manhood. Whereas, I see only a whimpering Dog of Bush!”

I looked into Saladar’s eyes. Those dark brown pupils were burning a hole right through my brain. “That young man must learn how to deal with such delusions,” continued the self-appointed potentate. “I shall have to make you an example to the contrary. RIGHT!”

I didn’t know what he meant, but was soon to find out. Viciously, Saladar tugged on the leash.

“On your knees dog!” he commanded.

I dropped to my knees. He reached out and patted me on the head. He then reached inside his robe and pulled out his huge flaccid cock.

“YOU are my pet now, my little monkey. Here is some candy for you!” He wagged his limp cock at me, and tugged hard on the leash, bringing my head just inches away.

I was mesmerized by the sight and scent. I hadn’t been in this position since I was fifteen when Barry Janifer dared me to suck his cock. I remembered the taste, the feel and the aroma of the hard cock of the star football player at Hillsdale High. I had never felt so high before in my life. But the shame, guilt and gossip about that act had me promising to never “surrender” to that part of my libido…AGAIN! But, now, here I am, about to be assassinated! Hell, what difference does it make? The cock before me belongs to one of the biggest widow makers in the Middle East, and it swings so invitingly before my eyes. What a fucking moment! I opened my mouth and popped the hooded-head inside.

Rapidly Saladar tugged on the leash once more, pulling my head away. “Ahhh! You are not the man my son thinks you are, huh? Huh?” he bellowed. “See! See how his mouth goes instantly into action?” he shrieked at Sasshya. “He will be perfect! Perfect! His young body is lean, blonde and almost hairless and the color of peaches and cream. Yes, he will be perfect!”

There was a pole in the center of Saladar’s tent. Sasshya fastened my leash to an iron ring at the base of the pole, leaving me secured to that spot. She then rapidly departed the tent with Saladar. I lay back on the pillows that were scattered around the pole, with no idea of what the hell was going on. But in a matter of seconds I felt a wave of overmastering energy conquering me. Swiftly looking up I saw a group of young handsome soldiers slowly stepping inside the tent.

One by one they moved in a circle around me, grinning, drooling, grasping and pulling at their crotches. I was chained like an animal and I couldn’t go anywhere. They began to cluck and call out my name. I looked into their glazed, glistening eyes. They were the eyes of foraging rats. They were hungry and ravenous. Stranded out here in the hinterlands without female company, they were insane with great appetite. In short, they were some horny-ass bastards.

They were down on the pillows next to me now. Rough, huge hands reached out and pawed me everywhere, pinching me, grabbing me, and caressing me. Instantly, my rosy ass-cheeks were covered with the squeezing hands of the Republican soldiers. I grunted at the pinches and tugs. One man dropped to his knees right in front of me. He looked me in the face. He looked to be about twenty-five, but you can never tell, these people age so quickly. He smiled at me, winking once. He ran his hand over my face and through my blonde silken hair. He then roughly grabbed my hair, pulling it hard. He pushed my head down, down. He pushed my head between his legs, then fiercely against his crotch. He reached inside his pants and pulled out his cock. He pushed me down on the thick trembling phallus. Instinctively, I opened my mouth and began licking at the copious pre-cum dripping from the bulbous head. The dick was unbelievably hard. And god was it big! It was the biggest cock I’d ever seen in my life. Damn, at this particular angle, Iraqi’s are ‘superior’. At least this one is. Again, I felt that sizzling blast of testosteronic energy, and just knew that they were ALL going to have me. I knew that now. I had been chained to this pole to be a sex toy for any Iraqi soldier in this camp who had a hard-on. And every damn one of them had erections. I prayed that the man whose cock I was now licking was the biggest, and that was why he had been allowed to go first. I prayed, because I sure as hell didn’t want to see a cock any bigger. He forced my head down, down, down, constantly pushing on the back of my head. He wanted me to take it all inside my mouth and throat. And he wanted it NOW! I let the head of his swollen dick slip between my tongue and tonsils. I had to stretch my jaws as far apart as they would go; just to take the head in, his cock was so wide. I couldn’t see being able to take any more, but as I felt the pressure on the back of my head, I knew that I’d have to. I let the dick slide further into my throat. It was pushing against the back of my throat now. That mammoth meaty stick was pushing its way down, down inside me. I could feel my throat expanding, expanding, and trying to take it down. I don’t know how I was doing this. I guess a whole life of denial, and the survival of the moment, was aiding my ingenious performance.

For a moment I finally succeeded. My lips were three quarters down the length of the enormous cock. But I felt my gag reflex being triggered. I really wanted to deep throat without gagging, but I couldn't. I began to choke and had to come up for air, coughing hard. The entire circle of soldiers around me began to giggle and laugh as one entity. The man I was sucking waited until I’d finished coughing, and then grabbed my hair once more. I slid the cock back inside my mouth a second time. I wished I could have just given him a handjob, and he’d have been satisfied. But that was not to be. His maniac need to savagely face-fuck me was the rule of the moment. So I slowly sucked on the huge, meaty head for a while before going any further. And this time the soldier didn’t force my head down. He was enjoying it. I could tell, and also heard guttural murmurs of immense arousal and gratification from the crowd. They were getting unbelievably excited. The collective heat they were generating around made every inch of my body tingle furiously with uncontrollable lust. I salaciously popped the head of the enormous dick in and out of my mouth. A loud lustful popping sound occurred with every exit of the cock from my mouth. I wetly worshipped the head of that great cock with a loud and devout reverence. The other soldiers laughed and shrieked at this, gabbing and slapping at each other in their native Iraqi gibberish.

The soldier moaned and groaned. I felt his taut, muscular body lustfully quake and tremble. I hoped that he was about to blast his load. But he didn’t. So I continued to lick, suck and kiss that hairy Iraqi cock the best of my ability. But he wanted it deep inside my mouth again. He pushed on the back of my head once more, and down and down, and closer and closer my nose came to the delicious scent of his massive sweaty pubic bush. The incredible cock was going down, pushing its way, sliding down my throat once again. It seemed to be going down a little easier this time. I had reached that point where I had gagged before, but my throat was handling it with no problem this time. The soldier still had his hands on the back of my head but he wasn’t pushing any more. He was running his fingers through my hair, gently caressing it, gently stroking my head as he crazily muttered words under his breath. The other soldiers began to cheer. I knew I was getting him close. I knew he was getting off. I could see the thick, steel-like cock hotly disappearing into my mouth, slipping deeper and deeper. I could feel the prick pulsating wildly inside my throat. My lips crept down, down. I was on the final inch. Just one more inch and I’d have that monster cock deep inside me. My heart was pounding, thunderously. I was on fire! And I was unbelievably excited at my accomplishment! And then it happened. I gagged again and I couldn’t hold it in. Inch after thick inch of the cock flew out of my mouth. I had failed again. The soldier looked at me shaking his head. The other soldiers laughed and joked once more. I lowered my head to start sucking once more, but the frustrated solider grabbed my hair. But this time to stop me. He pulled my head up and got to his feet. Instantly another Republican guard dropped in his place, whipping his hard dick out. I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t going to argue. The new soldier’s cock was enormous too, but not as impossible as the first. I was sure I’d be able to handle this one with ease. I threw my head down, and rapidly began gobbling up his pulsating dick.

I started slow again, just kissing and licking the head. This soldier seemed more patient than the first. I didn’t feel his hand on the back of my head, pushing me down. He was going to let me take my time. I was glad. I knew that if I wasn’t rushed, I could give some real good head. This cock was more curved and it made for a harder time taking it all in. The angle of the boner was working against me, but I was determined to conquer. Already this guy was moaning and groaning. Little drops of cum were already spilling out of his love eye. I knew he wouldn’t take much longer. I knew he was on the brink of explosion. Finally, his cock went down easier than imagined. It was sliding down my throat before I knew it, its fleshy head easing its way home. I bobbed up and down on the dick, each time taking a little more of it in deeper. It was a nice slow process, and the soldiers in the circle approved wholeheartedly. They were clapping with my every plunge down on his cock, loving every minute. The man’s hips were already frantically thrusting up into the air. He was fucking my mouth as I was sucking his cock. Wow! He yelled something out. Almost in religious zeal, he was screaming out. I could, more or less, guess what he was saying. He was telling the world that an American Black Hawk Helicopter pilot was making his hot manly Iraqi cock feel so fucking good! It was then that it dawned on me that I was really, really enjoying myself. I was enjoying every fucking second that I had this hard, sweaty, throbbing uncircumcised Iraqi cock inside my mouth. It was so strange to genuinely realize that this was what I wanted to do. Had wanted so badly to do all my life, hard, sweaty and dirty bad-boy cocks exploding in my mouth. I wanted him! I wanted this handsome, Republican guard’s cock all the way inside me. Oh yeah. He was pounding his fists into the pillows we lay on, now, announcing to all those present just how damn good he felt, just how much he loved what I was doing to him and for him. He probably even gave Allah a few hearty thanks!

Then I felt the pressure on my hips. I had been crouched down; my naked ass was on the pillow. But someone was lifting me up onto my knees. I didn’t turn around. I wanted to, but I was enjoying sucking that hairy funky Iraqi cock so much that I didn't want to stop. I had to keep sucking; it was if my life depended on it. It was important to me, very important, that I give this soldier a good orgasm. No, a phenomenal orgasm.

Then I felt something on my asshole. It was hard, wet and urgent. I couldn't imagine what was going on. Then it struck me. I was going to be fucked in the ass. All too soon the fun turned to panic. Sucking cock and drinking cum was one thing, but sodomy was something else completely. I didn't think I could handle that. I began to protest. There were now two soldiers trying to best each other to get up inside my hairy, blonde asshole. I went mad with fear as I began to kick and swung at the soldiers. But they seemed to be even more turned on by my fear. One by one they began to whip out their huge Iraqi cocks. Thoughts of my ravaged bleeding asshole had my blood pressure boiling over. They all laughed and mocked as they held me, while one big monster of a man tried to enter my virginal backside. He had gotten the tip of his mammoth fleshy head in me when a raging Ultor entered the tent. He threatened the lives of all present if they didn’t leave the tent immedaitely. All immediately deferred and hastily departed the tent.

The smoldering brown eyes of Ultor, the handsome Lieutenant who had saved my life three days from jihadist assassins, had now just saved me from spiritual castration. Looking down at my naked, almost-deflowered body, he pulled out a knife and moved closer. Dropping to his knees on the pillows, he raised the knife and brought it to my head, and slashed the leather leash that restrained me. Then he just leaned there beside me one the pillows. His sexual scent mingled strongly with that of the twenty or so soldiars who had preceded him. But it felt as though Ultor wanted more than just empty, mindless lust from me. He removed his hat from that handsome square face that was bordered with that sculpted beard. Those full Middle Eastern lips moved closer to mine. He moistly pressed them against mine as his hand went down to my throbbing dick.

“I have played my father’s game, and I have won. You are mine now. What would you have me do with you, Captain Dexter Warrington?"

“Well, I have some long-range plans Lt. Ultor...” I began, easing up to kiss those full, bee-stung lips, “…but for the past forty minutes I‘ve been waiting for some Iraqi cock to deliver me some thick, white, bountiful, Iraqi ambrosia. How about yours?”

“Gladly,” he said. But you do know that once you suck me off, I will have to fuck you up!”

With that announcement, a part of me tensed. But a greater part of me began to blossom expansively with the dream of my rosy ass checks being receptors of a mighty Iraqi cock. And simultaneously I was struck with the realization that this would be the first real genuine act of peace between the American and Iraqi armies.